Doubt
by Ryou VeRua
Summary: Sometimes he forgets that while he is a King of Thieves, Zorc is a god of darkness. And he doesn't take no for an answer.  drabble, slight violence/gore warning


A quick drabble/one-shot that was written... completely by accident, to be honest. xD; It was originally just an ask fic on tumblr/writing exercise for me so... I'm also not sure quite how it turned into this. Nice to be back, anyway ~ (as usual I don't know anything)

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><p>The fire crackled and left shadows on the Thief King's face as he carefully wrapped his left forearm and the raw open wound disfiguring it - it spat and drooled fresh blood as he worked, grinning up at him like the toothless mouth of a predator after a fresh kill. He cursed a bit, wondering if the knife that had caused the wound had been coated with some kind of poison. This hadn't been what he needed just days before his planned raid on the palace. The Thief King was confident but not foolish enough to attack in this state.<p>

"Fighting again?" whispered a voice by his ear. The Thief King stiffened, but didn't move. The chill that had filled the air, seeped through his clothes and into his very being told him enough. So he sat, waiting for the silver-haired phantom to continue.

"You know," it said, "the way you've been throwing yourself into battles lately... it's like you don't even want to face the Pharaoh. Do you not trust our power? MY power?" Again, the thief didn't respond. It was not his place to question.

It let out a bark of laughter and suddenly rushed at him - and through him. This time he couldn't hold back the spasm that shook his body, and he clutched his hurt arm to himself, gritting his teeth to keep himself from crying out. But the physical reaction seemed to be enough for the phantom - it spun on the spot, looking pleased and sporting a ghastly grin that seemed to split its face in two. The Thief King stared at the too pale face and the glittering eyes, willing the cold sweat away.

"Something to say?" it said quietly. It was goading him, he knew it was. However, he wasn't sure whether speaking would satiate it or feed the anger he could feel brewing under the surface of this calm facade.

However, it made the choice for him. Its hand darted out and grabbed the wounded arm, claw-like hands sinking through the bandages but somehow, impossibly - and yet, not for it! - solidifying just as it reached the torn bits of skin, muscle and sinew. The Thief King could not hold back this time. He let out a howl that seemed to shake the night, trying to push off the phantom with his good arm but unable to - it had become untouchable again, except for that hand that was digging and digging and digging -

The phantom let go suddenly, and the Thief King dropped backward with the sudden release, clutching the arm that was now throbbing painfully. He clenched his teeth again, breathing heavily, but not heavily enough to drown out the next words that came from the phantom's mouth.

"That hurt, didn't it?" it said, its mouth curling into a wicked grin. "That's what you were thinking, wasn't it? That it... _huuuurt_?" It laughed uproariously and the Thief King bowed his head, disgust and shame overwhelming him. "You insignificant mortal that barely crawled away from a fate worse than death, who escaped being torn limb from limb by pure luck, who should have been _boiled_ into gold not even fit for royalty, disgusting, disgusting disgusting filth, disgusting sub-human! You sit there and you feel that sort of meager pain, and you consider delaying your attack on the palace? Is that the true shallowness of your rage against the Pharaoh? Is this the _man_that the honour of the Kul Elna village has been forced to rely on?"

"I will do it!" The Thief King shouted quickly. Gone was his silence, gone was his restraint - just as the phantom had planned, he was sure. His wounded arm still shook slightly from the pain and he grasped it with his good hand to keep it still.

The air shimmered around the phantom as his grin twisted yet again. "That's it," he said in a low purr, "that's the spirit, boy. You remember what I said, yes? In a few days' time, there will be a larger than usual patrol sent out from the palace. Diabound is strong, but not yet strong enough to take on the royal guard at its full strength while also protecting your body. Now now... it's a matter of numbers. It is a rare opportunity, don't you agree? One that you - we - cannot miss."

"Y-Yes, ... Master," the Thief King said, spitting out the last word with just a hint of defiance. The phantom smiled down at him, clearly amused by this, but let it go. The thief was grateful for that bit of mercy, at least.

"The time will come, soon," it said quietly. It stared straight past him thoughtfully. "The time for your vengeance... and the time for my revival. They are both close at hand. So we will not delay." Its eyes snapped down to him.

"... I will not delay," he repeated, grimacing as his arm throbbed.

"Very good. Then I..." it paused, eyes glittering, as it glanced to the bleeding arm. A note of amusement leaked into his voice. "... I suppose I shall leave you to your... _rest_. You better keep out of sight. You wouldn't want to be out of sorts for the big day." With a final loud laugh, its form twisted in on itself and blinked out of existence. He let out a small breath as some warmth returned to him.

The Thief closed his eyes for a moment before getting back to bandaging his arm and settling himself down for sleep. There was no use in fighting it - he would simply have to concentrate on regaining his strength until the day he attacked the palace. Not for the first time, he wondered how much control he really had - and when this had stopped being only about Kul Elna. His last waking thought, however, was at least enough to reassure him a little more.

"At least when this is all over and I am finally slain... I will be released from my servitude and have the rest that I deserve."


End file.
